How abandoning this secret saved my life. Maybe it can yours, too
I remember my toddler sliding across the hardwood floor and watching him erupt in a loud, full belly laugh. You know the one — it’s the toddler-wheeze, can’t breathe, cackle. I can press my hand against his and steadily move his body across the floor like a machine. He is reliably bewildered as if I put the square block through the triangle hole of his shapes play toy. Every. Time.
Fast forward several years and my son is now 7 and my daughter is 4 and ‘hand push’ is a game we play when we are hanging around the house. Or in the airport. At a friend’s house, or impatiently waiting in a doctor’s office lobby. It’s my Dad-Hack anytime smiles are needed, even if just for self-preservation.
“Dad, let’s do a hand push!” is how it starts. After I win — and I always win — it’s followed by “Dad, how do you do that!? My answer is consistent…”Because I’m the strongest man in the world.” My kids have always lived in a world where their dad is infallible, strong, and safe. I’m a hero and a villain to them in all the best ways. Thinking about the day my kids find out I’m not actually the strongest man in the world, the day they find out I’m human and flawed and completely imperfect fills me with dread. I would rather out Santa six ways from Sunday than shatter my hero vision into a million pieces.
